 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
286
On a ROBIN's singing near my Window in Autumn.
On yonder Tree with warbling Note
The little Red-breast swells his Throat,
In Silence while the feather'd Throng,
List to his more melodious Song;
Did not the Sun the Truth reveal,
You'd swear it was the Nightingale.
The little Red-breast swells his Throat,
In Silence while the feather'd Throng,
List to his more melodious Song;
Did not the Sun the Truth reveal,
You'd swear it was the Nightingale.
Autumn's sweet Bird! From Woods and Groves,
His Summer Haunts, he now removes,
To Man for friendly Shelter flies;
A Pittance Robin's Meed supplies;
Our warmest Love he well repays,
All grateful, with his melting Lays.
His Summer Haunts, he now removes,
To Man for friendly Shelter flies;
A Pittance Robin's Meed supplies;
Our warmest Love he well repays,
All grateful, with his melting Lays.
Upon my Window's Ledge each Day,
The scatter'd Crumb shall court your Stay;
Or shou'd the Cold's unfriendly Spell
Within my Sash your Flight impell;
A plenteous Welcome shall be shown,
And boundless Freedom still your own.
The scatter'd Crumb shall court your Stay;
Or shou'd the Cold's unfriendly Spell
Within my Sash your Flight impell;
A plenteous Welcome shall be shown,
And boundless Freedom still your own.
Fidelia erst wou'd raptur'd bend,
And to your soothing Lay attend;
Her Soul in tuneful Softness drest,
Congenial Harmony exprest,
Sing on, while list'ning to your Strain,
Entranc'd—I view her Charms again.
And to your soothing Lay attend;
Her Soul in tuneful Softness drest,
Congenial Harmony exprest,
Sing on, while list'ning to your Strain,
Entranc'd—I view her Charms again.
| Poems on Several Occasions | |